As it is, I'm stationed in my living room, which already serves dual function as my dining area, so when my dining table is covered in a sewing machine, tabletop ironing board and an explosion of pattern tissue, I'm subjected to cutting fabric on the floor and eating dinner on the couch and entertaining guests in... the bedroom? Um.
Then:
Right now:
This could be (and has been) worse, actually; last night everything in that garbage bag above (pillow stuffing, blue scallop scraps, piles of thread) was strewn across various surfaces as well.
I'm gonna distract myself from this awful mess by collecting photos of lovely sewing areas that belong to other people who clearly never touch a thing within them:
Hideable yet also displayable. Primary source: Better Homes and Gardens |
Everything seems so tiny here. Secondary source: Truelock Equals Truelove |
These people stand up to sew, and sit down to use their enormous 1990s computer monitor. Source: Super Ziper |
You can't call yourself a true sewist until you have one of those headless ladies hanging around. Source: SaĆdos da Concha |
Sewing shed. Lovely and rustic and only slightly claustrophobic. Source: Content in a Cottage |
Teach me how to use that sewing machine. Source: Home Klondike |
They call this a minimalist sewing room, which seems like an oxymoron. Source: Genuine Style |
Yes, you can create a sewing room without using the color pink. Source: Country Living |
Moral of the story: all fabric scraps should be lightweight cotton prints with equal size, yardage and color palette so they can be stacked like perfect little rainbows in your China cabinets. Seriously? I tried the neat little sweater-stacks on my closet shelves before and that failed by the second hour. This would be no different, and maybe worse.
This is more up my alley:
This is more up my alley:
Maybe I should stick with my current style of throwing all my simultaneous sewing projects on the couch, because it seems neat & organized spaces annoy me. Sew on!